Miss Me?
by LadyMarianne123
Summary: Just a one off scene in the library with a meeting between DuLaque and someone from his past.


Miss me?

Baird wasn't sure exactly when this had all gone so wrong. One moment she and the younger librarians were gathered around the research table with Jenkins, looking over some new manuscripts that dealt with the Salem witch trials, trying to identify the markings found in the house of a pair of missing teenagers. The next moment the library's alarm was blaring, strangers with guns were pouring into the annex and the back door had flown open, allowing even more armed men to surround the group. Baird looked at Stone, her hands flat on the table with her gun just out of reach. "No one move" she hissed, keeping her eyes on the gunmen. She inched her hand slowly towards her weapon.

"I wouldn't if I were you Guardian" a familiar voice floated out of the open back door. DuLaque strolled in, his cane tapping the floor in front of him as he walked. He was impeccably dressed, leather gloves on his long, slender hands. Once in the annex he dispensed with the sheath and pulled out the sword hidden inside the cane. "You really don't want to try my patience. You've done that enough already."

"What do you want?" Jenkins snarled, crossing his arms and glaring around at hired guns their enemy had brought with him.

"The library has become somewhat annoying. You've even managed to defeat a Fictional – quite amazing - and quite dangerous for the Brotherhood." DuLaque smiled thinly as he walked towards the table. "I decided it was time to make our presence known again and to remind you that the Librarians are not as unstoppable as they think they are." He pointed the sword cane at Stone and Baird. "You really don't want to take me on. I won't be defeated here as easily as I was at the Loom of Fate."

"You're really not as good with that pig sticker as you think you are." A gravely voice drawled from behind the mercenaries. A tall form, clothed in well worn jeans and a grey hoodie stepped down into the room, followed by an abnormally large wolf. The man pulled the hood back from his head to show the vibrant blue eyes and shaggy blond hair that identified the figure as Arthur, the magic swordsman that had once fought for Camelot. "Hello old friend. Miss me?"

Stone watched in amazement as DuLaque's face turned suddenly pale, his sword hand trembling. "No! This isn't possible! You're dead!"

"Well, yes I was" Arthur agreed with a thin smile. "But I got better." He looked around at the suddenly nervous mercenaries, several of whom had shifted position to cover him. "I think we need a little privacy for this conversation, don't you?" He motioned with two fingers. "Sleep" he commanded. Instantly all the hired guns fell to the floor, some snoring before they had hit the ground. "So much better." He looked back at DuLaque curiously. "So – I'm guessing that Merlin's little spelling worked on you as well? You do remember that I'm not Arthur Pendragon?"

DuLaque squinted at the man in front of him, shaking his head as though trying to clear his memory. "Yes – I remember. I remember a swordsman named Arthur who wasn't the son of Uthor but used his name for a while.. But I thought…"

"Arthur, what are you doing here?" Jenkins asked, watching DuLaque closely.

"Looking for that minx of a sister of mine" Arthur replied with a shrug. "She said something about needing to use the library for something. Truly, I think she just wanted to find a quiet corner to curl up and read where the boys and I couldn't find her."

"The boys?" Baird asked, stepping carefully over the unconscious mercenaries.

"Our wild hunt - a mix of wizards, were beasts and others. We tend to get a little loud and rowdy when we hunt."

"Do I want to know what you were hunting?" Stone asked, warily, glancing quickly back at the sleeping gunmen.

"Not really" Arthur admitted ruefully. "So, did my sister take up residence here to get away from us?"

"That was the plan" a feminine voice from the top of the stairs floated down to the group. Rowan, dressed in a long, embroidered shift with her hair floating lose around her shoulders and holding a large, gilded book glided down to the table. "It seems not to have worked." She looked at DuLaque with evident boredom. "Who's this?"

"Lancelot DuLaque. Lance – this is my sister Rowan. I did mention her to you once didn't I? Or did I just mention her to Galias?" Arthur parked himself on the edge of the table, watching his pet wolf sniff at the sleeping mercenaries. "I honestly don't remember."

"Oh – this is Lancelot" Rowan commented, walking around the table to sit beside her brother. "He's a bit delicate looking, isn't he?"

Ezekiel snickered. "He is, isn't he?"

Jenkins frowned at the pair. "He's more dangerous than he looks."

"Doubtful" Rowan said, opening the book she was holding. "By the way Cassandra, I pulled a few more of those photos I sent before for you. This one is quite interesting." She held it out, allowing DuLaque to see what she was holding.

DuLaque stared at the photo aghast. "How…?" he sputtered, reaching out to snatch the photo from her.

Arthur grabbed the older man's outstretched arm, knocking the sword cane from his other hand. He hefted DuLaque by the collar and booted him out the open back door, closing it and spinning the globe to scramble the lock. "There! So much better, don't you agree?"

Rowan's raised one eyebrow as she stared down at the sleeping gunmen. "What had you planned for this bunch?"

Arthur frowned. "I could always …"

"No you can't" Baird interjected quickly. "Just send them away."

"How do you know that wasn't what I was going to suggest?" Arthur grumbled, waving one hand in a mystic symbol. All the sleeping men disappeared instantly.

"Because kill them and let God sort them out is your fall back position" Jenkins said, walking around to pick up the photo that DuLaque had dropped. He glanced at it and then looked at Rowan, a small smile forming. "Interesting moment in time to put into picture form."

Rowan shrugged with a smile. "Got his attention, didn't it?"

Arthur moved up to his friend with a frown. "What did she do?" he asked taking the photo from Jenkins. He looked at the photo for a moment, biting his lip to keep from laughing. "That's just so wrong – you know that?"

"What's the photo of?" Cassandra asked, curiously.

Arthur handed the page to Stone and Ezekiel with a grin. "I think that this might not be something Miss Cassandra would necessarily want to see – what do you think?"

Stone looked at the photo and promptly started to cough. "Is that…?"

"Lancelot and Genevieve in a somewhat compromising position" Arthur said with a sigh. "Once does wonder if things would have gone down quite the way that they did if social media had been around to out them for their disloyalty."

"Camelot didn't need social media" Jenkins said sadly. "The servants did a good enough job of revealing that secret without the help of electronic media."

Arthur shrugged. "No one's fault but their own – they betrayed a good man." He waved his hand and the print turned to flame and then ash. "So – anyone up from lunch?"

In an alley way in Paris

DuLaque picked himself up and dusted himself off. "Arthur has returned?" he thought to himself, walking swiftly to towards the street. "No – not Arthur. At least not Arthur Pendragon." He stopped for a moment, memories he had repressed flooding into his mind. "He should have stayed. He should have been king – not that young centurion no matter what Merlin said. If he had stayed Camelot would not have fallen. And now he's back and those Librarians have his help. There must be a way to change that. There must be!" He stalked down the street, plotting his next move.


End file.
